GiroNatsu - Goodnight Kiss
by TheCrowMaiden
Summary: Writing a fanfic is probably the last thing I should have done with my time (read: I should be studying for my exams) but I just got the megahouse Natsumi figure, and she's not only beautiful, but I put my Giroro figure with her. Staring at my wonderful little GiroNatsu figure set up made me want to write about them, and this came up. Lots of fluff, nothing serious. One-shot.


She should be asleep. She should be hidden away in her room, resting for another chaotic day of dealing with him and the rest of his platoon and their invasion plans. She should _not_ be sitting on the back porch in her orange pyjamas with her hair down and two mugs of hot milk. Nor should she be sitting on the back porch in her orange pyjamas with her hair down and two mugs of hot milk _asking him to tell her a story!_

"Aren't you too old to need such a ridiculous sleeping aid?" Giroro asked, grateful that the firelight would hide at least some of his mortifyingly frequent blushing. "Even your brother can read himself to sleep."

She scowled at him, and he did his damndest to remain nonchalant with his tending of the fire.

"Don't be stupid, I just need something completely unrelated to reality. You can tell me one of your war stories or something."

"And that will put you to _sleep_?" He grumbled, torn part way between being delighted she wanted to hear him talk about anything, and furious at the suggestion that his war stories could function as nothing but a martial lullaby.

"Why not? It would probably be like a history lesson."

He loved her sharp tongue and her wit, he didn't even mind when it was being used on him. Not to say he didn't prefer hearing her tear into his idiot Sergeant instead though. Shrugging, he looked at her from the corner of his eye.

"Tch. I suppose I can educate you then."

"Great," she said as she stood and smiled, "put out the fire then and let's get going."

"What! Do you want to freeze?"

He melted a little, not that he showed it, when she rolled her eyes at him. "Idiot, I'm not planning on falling asleep down here. I prefer my own bed, thanks."

Giroro's brain went into shutdown at the implication of that statement, and she was already out of sight before he realized he should really be following her. Frantically he put out the fire and jumped onto the porch and inside. He barely remembered to shut the door and went up the stairs, but paused in front of her door. Panic started to set in again, and he froze with one hand raised to knock, sweat forming on his forehead. This was _Natsumi's_ room. Was he really worthy enough to just walk on in to her room as if he were something important to her? Not that he should be important to her. He was an invader. Yes. He was only going to tell her a story because he…because he…

…Loved her.

His head thumped against the door as he slumped, defeated. It was a sad day when he couldn't even find a way to lie to himself.

"What's the hold up Giroro?"

Her door opened abruptly, and he fell flat on his face at her feet. Body and dignity bruised, he looked up at her with his best (for him) neutral expression. She just raised her eyebrows though.

"Just so you know, next time after you knock you can just come in. It's not like I wasn't waiting for you."

The chair from her desk was pushed next to her bed, and both of the mugs of milk were on the little nightstand by it. He stood up with his cheeks hot from embarrassment as she climbed into bed and got settled in, a pillow behind her back and her blankets up to her waist. Giroro figured toughing it out was his best option and he jumped up onto the chair, sitting and crossing his arms. But his stoic pose was irrevocably ruined by her holding one of the mugs out to him. It was difficult not to drift away into a bubble of hearts. Just sitting there, at eye level and sipping a hot drink with her was almost more than his heart could handle. Not that he could ever handle anything to do with her.

She was watching him expectantly though, so he pulled himself together with a valiant effort.

"I'll tell you about my first skirmish as a mobile infantry soldier. You won't learn anything about my skills you don't already know."

"Like I need to know your skills to beat you, anyway."

He (privately) basked in her teasing challenge, and started outlining what his mission had been that day. It had been quite the day, when he got his first chance to be the muscle of a squad, the one who had everyone's back. He thought it was a good story about him, where he made enough mistakes that she wouldn't think he was bragging but he was still tactically efficient and the best infantry at the time. At least, he thought it was a good story until he got to the part about the Transparent-Matter Ticks and belatedly realized that an alien bug that could slide through any clear solid was probably a bit too much like a ghost for Natsumi.

For once he was right too. She looked like she was utterly horrified but trying not to show it. Her hands were clenching the fabric of her quilt, knuckles showing pale as she looked sideways at the window. Giroro felt like he had just swapped intelligence levels with Keroro. He had been immersed in what was almost a romantic situation with his beloved Natsumi and he went and brought up something that bothered her.

He was utterly lost, until a sharp gust of wind rattled the barely open window and she flinched. The girl he loved, the girl who could grind most Keronians under her heal with vindictive pleasure, was scared. So he did what he always did and would always do: he protected her.

The chair was light enough for him to push, and push it he did. When he got it to the window he leapt up onto the broad sill and sat with his back to the glass. He crossed his arms once again and leaned back. It was hard not to feel a little bit gratified by the way she relaxed when he was between her and the perceived danger.

"Afraid of a little wind?" He taunted, knowing nothing brought her out of a funk like anger. "I wouldn't have expected that from you."

It worked too. She glared at him and huffed out an angry breath, briefly forgetting her fear. He would have to make sure he didn't get too full of himself, being right about her twice in one night.

"I am _not_ scared!" She told him sourly, pulling her knees up so she could lean on them. "I'm just naturally concerned about their being more weird aliens around than juat you guys."

A smirk inched its way across his face at her attempt to dissemble. It was almost as good as him trying to deny loving her, which meant that it was a very bad attempt indeed. One more thing in common for them, he supposed. Closing his eyes, he waved a hand dismissively at her.

"If you say so. I think that's enough story time for you anyway, so go to sleep." When she made an immediate noise of objection, he opened one eye and gave her his best Corporal glare. "And I'll be staying here until you do, to make sure you don't go and run amok somewhere."

Pretending not to notice her look of relief, he closed his eyes again. They both knew he was sitting there to make her feel safe, but really there was no need to go and admit it when he liked being able to protect her, and she liked not seeming immature. They had their pride after all.

He sat there for about ten minutes, listening to her breathing becoming softer and more even before he cautiously opened one eye to peek. She was lying down, and from what he could tell, sound asleep. Free to go back to his tent, he couldn't shake the feeling that he ought to take slight advantage of her guard being down and do something daring…like kiss her goodnight.

Giroro had seen the bizarre Pekoponian custom of blowing kisses before, but he thought it was really a careless approach. He certainly didn't want his kiss to get misplaced or go to anyone but her. So he hopped off the window sill and crept silently to her bedside, unconsciously avoiding the mundane obstacles of her room.

She'd already shifted enough in her sleep to dislodge her blankets, the soft quilt bunched around her elbows, and her hair mussed and fanned out on the pillows. Giroro thought it was the most beautiful thing he had seen, and he watched her with what he knew must be a sappy look on his face for almost a minute. But a cool draft brought him back to reality, and he tucked the quilt back over her shoulders with gentle efficiency. Then he kissed his stubby fingers, and touched her lightly on the cheek with them.

"Sweet dreams, Natsumi."

The window was closed tight behind him, so no errant breeze disturbed the sleep of his warrior princess, and in a happy haze of love the Corporal stumbled back to his tent.

Because he'd willingly play guinea pig to that sadistic little creep Kululu for the rest of his life before he'd ever tell a soul what Natsumi murmured in her sleep after he'd given her that goodnight kiss.


End file.
